


Rules of Vacation

by amsves



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: American!AU, Angst, Beaches, Best Friends, Boys In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Day At The Beach, Fluff, Gay, Implied Sexual Content, Jerome spoils the moment, M/M, Mitch is really sappy, Vacation, non-youtube!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Mitch gets dumped by his girlfriend, Jerome shows up at his house and practically forces Mitch to get in his car and go on vacation with him to take the pain off of his mind. What follows is probably the best impromptu vacation ever. </p><p>Chaptered fanfiction with eventual Merome. Non-Youtube!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Rule: All Smiles and No Crying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sassystephy33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassystephy33/gifts).



> I’m doing something that I haven’t done in a while, and that is writing a chaptered fic. I also haven’t written Merome in a while, so forgive me if they seem slightly OOC.

“Get in the car,” Jerome stated, rolling down the passenger-side window. 

“What?” Mitch replied, shocked.

“You heard me, Mitch. I’m not just going to let you sit around moping because Jess dumped you. Now get. In. The. Car.” 

This time, Mitch did as he was told and hopped in. “Let’s go.” They pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road, windows down and wind roaring in their ears.

-

_Jerome glanced at his phone and saw the familiar photo of his best friend as it rang. “Hey dood, what’s up?”_

_“She dumped me, Jerome,” Mitch sobbed on the other end of the line, “She said she thought she loved me but she didn’t and she just wanted out. She freakin’ dumped me!”_

_“Where are you right now?”_

_“At my house, why?”_

_“Stay there. I’ll be there in five.” He ended the call, ignoring Mitch’s protests, and grabbed his keys._

-

“Where are we going?” Mitch shouted above the wind.

“Anywhere you want!” Jerome replied, also shouting. 

“What if I don’t know what I want?”

“Then we drive until you figure it out!” 

About thirty minutes of driving around aimlessly later, Mitch spoke again. “You know, I’d really like to go to the beach. It’s been a while, and people always say that it’s very therapeutic to feel the sand and the ocean and such, but it’s so far away and we’re going in the wrong direction - what are you doing?” He asked as Jerome made a U-turn randomly.

“You want to go to the beach. I’m turning my car around so we can go to the beach,” Jerome replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“But it’s a six hour drive!” Mitch protested.

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

“You can’t drive for six hours!”

“If I get tired, you’ll take over. You haven’t gotten your license revoked since the last time you drove me around, what, three days ago?” Mitch shook his head wordlessly. “Good. Then that’s settled.”

“What about clothes?”

“You’re wearing clothes.”

“Not beach clothes!”

“You don’t think that beach shops sell beach clothes?”

“Well, what about lodging? Where are we going to stay?”

“You don’t think that beaches have beach motels all along them?”

“Of course they do, Jerome! But why are you doing all this?”

Jerome turned his head to face Mitch square-on. “Because you’re my best friend, Mitch, and you’re hurting, and it’s my job to help you back up when you fall down. That’s what best friends are for.”

Mitch’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Thanks, biggums. This really means a lot to me.” Tears started to prick in the corners of his eyes.

“Now don’t get weepy on me, Mitchell Hughes. This is a vacation, and the first rule of vacations is all smiles and no crying.” 

Mitch wiped his eyes. “Got it. No crying.”

“I’m glad. Now get out your phone and Apple Maps some directions for me. Just because you got your heart broken doesn’t mean you get to loaf around in my car and not help me,” Jerome ordered with a smile. “And also you’re DJ, since I’m driving. The AUX cord should be somewhere in the glove compartment.”

Mitch chuckled and did as he was told.

“Your first duty as co-pilot is to find us a 7-11. We’re gonna need snacks.”

-

“Alright, turn off on exit 49 and you should be able to see the ocean,” Jerome directed. About halfway through their trip, they’d stopped for gas and food again, and switched drivers. 

“Oh, there it is!” Mitch took his left hand off the wheel and pointed out his window. “I see it, Jerome! We’re here!”

“Put your hand back on the wheel, Mr. Hughes,” Jerome commanded in a false-serious tone, “And turn left here. This is where we’re staying.”

“The Driftwood Motel,” Mitch read off the weathered sign. The motel was painted a light blue-green, with a white roof and shutters. Palm trees stood on either side of the entrance, and the door frame was decorated with sea glass. The building was clearly very old, but well-kept. “Looks pretty nice.”

“And the price is pretty nice, too,” Jerome added, smiling. “Pull up to the front. I’ll hop out and check us in, and you can park the car. Preferably close to the door.”

“What if they don’t have a room?” Mitch asked, worried, as Jerome hopped out of his car.

“Don’t worry. I made a reservation. That’s also why I’m the one checking us in, it’s on my credit card. Now go park the car, Mitchell Hughes, and start enjoying your vacation!” Jerome smiled as he slammed the passenger door.

As he entered the front lobby, he took in the decor. The place was small but had great seaside charm. He located the check-in desk to his left and approached. “Reservation for ‘Aceti?’”

The woman behind the desk punched the name into the computer. “Ah, yes. We have you booked for a single room?” He nodded. “Now, this room only has one King-sized bed, will that be alright?” Jerome hissed internally, but smiled and handed her his credit card. “How long will you be staying with us?”

“I don’t know yet. Can I just pay for every night individually?” 

“Sure!” The woman handed him back his card, along with two room keys and a thin packet of papers. Jerome noted her name was Lacy. “Here’s your room keys, phone listings, rules of the Driftwood, activity schedule, and restaurant menu. The TV directory is in your room, as well as the listings for several popular restaurants, shops, and the like. Will you need someone to help you with your bags?”

“No, I’m good. I really don’t have that much luggage.” Jerome refused with a small smile.

“Light packer, or spur-of-the-moment, if you don't mind me asking?” Lacy asked, returning the smile. 

“The latter.”

“I would’ve assumed so, since you made the reservation only two hours ago.”

“Well, it all worked out, didn’t it?” Jerome bantered, walking back out to the parking lot.

“That it did. Thank you for staying at the Driftwood!” Lacy waved.

Mitch was waiting in the car, parked only three spots from the door. Jerome knocked on the window, causing Mitch to jump. “We’re in.” Mitch smiled and opened his door. “Here’s your room key. Can you pop the trunk?”

“Sure, but what’s in it?” Mitch questioned. A second later, he answered his own query. “Towels, two t-shirts, two pairs of flip-flops, and two pairs of sunglasses? When did you pick this up?”

“When we stopped for gas at that tiny gas station, I grabbed these supplies. Figured it might be a bit easier for you to relax and have fun if some of the basic necessities were taken care of. I also bought chips, trail mix, and chocolate, since we ate all our Doritos from home. The new provisions are sitting in the back seat, since the trunk would be too hot.” Jerome smiled and clapped Mitch on the shoulder. “Come on, biggums, let’s go have an awesome vacation.”

-

“So, do you want to eat in our rooms, or eat in a restaurant?” Mitch questioned as he and Jerome threw their stuff onto the chair in the corner. “I’m really open to either.”

“Well, seeing as chocolate, chips, and trail mix are not the most nutritious foods in the world, nor would they satisfy two very hungry adolescent boys, I say we try a restaurant. Lacy said there was a list of restaurants around here somewhere - here!” He located the piece of paper on the bedside table. “Do we want to drive or walk?”

“Walk, please,” Mitch replied, laying back on the bed. “I’m done with driving.”

“Alright,” Jerome and scanned the paper. “Do we want pizza or seafood?”

“Is that even a question?”

“Pizza it is, then. I’ll call Seagrass Pizza and see if they’ve got a table.” Jerome fished around in his pocket and grabbed his cellphone. He dialed the number, his finger hovering over the call button, when he noticed Mitch staring at his own phone and crying. “Mitch, what are you doing?”

Mitch’s phone was currently displaying the contact photo for his ex as she called him. Mitch’s thumb hovered over the ‘answer’ button. “Mitchell Hughes, you put that phone down right now,” Jerome commanded.

“I just miss her, Jerome!” He choked out. 

“Alright, give me that.” Jerome plucked Mitch’s phone out of his hands and pocketed it before pocketing his own. “No cell phones this whole vacation. When we go down to the lobby, I’ll ask the receptionist to put them in the safe.”

Mitch gaped at his best friend, who grabbed the hotel phone and redialed the number for the pizza place. A minute later, he set it down. “Grab your jacket. Let’s go.”

The two made their way down the hall to the lobby and out the door, Jerome pausing briefly to hand over their phones. They walked the quarter mile to Seagrass Pizza and pushed open the door. At once they were assaulted by the loud music and delicious smells of pizza. A young woman approached the two and asked, “How many?”

“Just us,” Jerome replied.

“Follow me.” She led them to a table off to the side of the restaurant, with a view of the ocean in the fading light of evening. “Do you need a minute before you order?”

“Yes, please.” Mitch responded, picking up his menu off the table.

“That’s fine. I’ll be back in a minute. My name’s Jasmine, by the way, and welcome to Seagrass Pizza.” Jasmine flashed them a smile and left. Mitch and Jerome perused the menu for a moment. “It all looks so good. Want to get two different entrees and split them both?” Jerome suggested.

“Sounds great.” Mitch stared out the window. 

Jerome snapped his fingers in front of the taller’s face. “Hey. No moping. That’s the first rule of vacation, remember?”

“Sorry. But I’m not going to get over her in a day, I hope you understand.”

“Of course not. We’ll stay as long as you need, if my bank account can hold out that long.” Jerome smiled comfortingly. “I’m here for you, buddy.”

“Thanks.” Mitch returned his gaze to his menu. “I think I’ll get the Hawaiian six-inch pizza as my entree. What’s yours?”

“Probably the seafood spaghetti. I know we came here for pizza, but this picture is calling my name.”

Jasmine returned and took their orders. “And will this be on one bill or two?” she asked after she was finished writing.

“One,” Jerome answered before Mitch could. “I’m paying.”

“Okay, well I’ll see you guys in a few!” 

“Why did you say you’d pay for it?” Mitch hissed after she was gone. “You’re already paying for the hotel room!”

“Well, in my past experience, paying for a meal does not make you get over a girlfriend faster. However, immeasurable amounts of fun with your biggums does. So let me handle this.” A new song came on the radio, blasting the entire restaurant with Paramore. “Oh, hey, I like this song!” Jerome smiled. “I don't mind, letting you down easy but just give it time,” he sang out, perfectly in tune with Hayley Williams. Mitch laughed as Jerome belted the entire song, finishing just as Jasmine brought their food out.

“That was quite some performance, Jerome,” he chuckled as he sliced his pizza in two and slid one half onto Jerome’s plate. 

“Why thank you, good sir,” Jerome returned as he divided his pasta, “I try.” 

They ate their meal in companionable silence, too busy shoving food in their mouths to have any sort of conversation. As they finished up and paid the bill, Jerome asked, “So, what would you rate this place out of ten?”

“Definitely … a pizza out of ten,” Mitch grinned, pushing open the door and stepping out into the cool evening air.

“Wow, high praise.” 

“Well, they deserve it. That food was to die for.”

“Ready to head back to the room?”

“Absolutely. I’m about ready to pass out standing up.” Mitch fake-swooned from exhaustion.

“Well don’t fall asleep just yet. We’re still a quarter mile from the room,” Jerome said, punching Mitch’s shoulder.

“What if I do? Can I count on my biggums to carry me?”

“Absolutely not. I’d leave you in the street.” That was all it took to send the pair into a fit of giggles that lasted almost the whole walk home.


	2. Rule 2: Get a Sunburn

Jerome awoke the next morning to the sun streaming through the window. He checked the clock. 8:30. With a groan, he pulled the covers back over his head. 

On the other side of the bed, Mitch’s eyes fluttered open. “Biggums?” he called out quietly, his voice hoarse from sleep. “What time is it?”

“Early.”

Mitch pulled the covers off of himself and walked into the bathroom. “Jerome, we didn’t bring toothbrushes. Or combs. Or underwear.”

“Uggggghhhhh,” Jerome’s groans increased in volume and resonance. 

“We have to go shopping. Like, now.” Mitch walked back over to the bed and ripped the covers off of his friend. “Get up, loser, we’re going shopping.” When Jerome didn’t move, Mitch pushed him out of the bed. “Now.”

“Fine, fine.” Jerome hopped up and stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face while Mitch changed into a spare t-shirt that Jerome had picked up yesterday and styled his hair with his fingers. A minute later, Jerome appeared at his side. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

They walked across the store to the Walmart. Jerome grabbed two pairs of swim trunks (sharks for Mitch and palm trees for himself), a six-pack of boxers, and two more t-shirts (one with a turtle and one with a crab), while Mitch got the toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, deodorant, and sunscreen, which Jerome put back. “Second rule of vacation: get a sunburn,” he told the taller solemnly.

“But - “

“I don’t make the rules, Mitch, I just enforce them.” 

Mitch winced as he saw the total price of their groceries but whipped out his credit card anyways. “I’m paying this time, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” he declared as he punched in his pin. They carried the plastic Walmart bags back to their room and busied themselves with personal hygiene activities.

Thirty minutes later, the two were ready for action. “What time is it now?” Mitch asked as he donned his new shark swim trunks and crab t-shirt.

“10.”

“Should we eat breakfast before we go to the beach?”

“Nah, let’s just bring the trail mix and chips and eat out there. You grab the towels; I’ve got the food.” Jerome grabbed the canvas bag containing their minimal food supplies and deposited a room key in it before heading out of the room. “Let’s go!”

Mitch clutched the towels and ran after him. Their motel was right on the beach, so they walked past the pool and there it was: the magnificent Atlantic ocean. An idea formed in Mitch’s mind. “Race you!” he shouted suddenly, tearing off across the pool deck, despite the ‘No Running’ signs.

“No fair!” Jerome laughed as he chased after the taller. Predictably, Mitch won, and started laying out the beach towels across the hot white sand. Jerome collapsed onto the towel, chest heaving with laughter. “Cheater.” 

Mitch threw an almond in the shorter’s face. “That was uncalled for.”

“The truth is uncalled for?”

“Shut up and eat your breakfast, Mr. Vacation Expert.”

“With pleasure.” Jerome plunged his hand into the bag of nuts, raisins, and M&M’s and pulled out a handful. “So, Mr. Vacation N00b, how has this experience been so far?”

“It’s been pretty great. We haven’t been away for 24 hours and I already feel so much better.” Mitch pulled out a handful of trail mix and picked at it. “She really couldn’t have dumped me at a better time. A week ago, and we still would’ve been taking exams. God knows how I would’ve done on those if I’d been moping around.” He deposited the remains of his handful, which was now entirely raisins, back into the bag. Jerome snorted.

They sat and ate the entire bag of trail mix, and then cracked open the chips. By noon, both bags were empty. “Wow, such a nutritious breakfast, Jerome.”

“Indeed it was. Come on, let’s go play in the ocean.” Jerome grabbed Mitch’s hand and dragged him towards the water. If he’d looked back, he would’ve noticed Mitch was blushing. Or maybe it was just sunburn.

\- 

At about three in the afternoon, Mitch proclaimed that he was done with ‘dirty sea animal poop water’ splashing him in the face, so they retired to the sand and started on a castle, which quickly fell apart. ‘Making a castle’ quickly evolved into ‘balling up sand in our fists and flinging it at the other person.’ Their sunglasses were largely responsible for the fact that neither boy lost his eyesight. 

They stayed on the beach for about seven hours total, and Mitch couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. As the temperature began to cool, they packed up their belongings and made their way back to the room. Jerome noticed the time on the clock as he was getting ready for a shower. “It’s five o’clock? Wow, I had no idea. Mitch, are you hungry for dinner?” 

“Yeah, actually, now that you mention it. Wanna take showers and then decide where to go?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be quick.” Jerome turned on the water and used the next fifteen minutes to rinse himself of all the sand, ocean water, and shell bits stuck to his skin. When he got out, he wrapped a towel around himself before heading into the main room. 

“I’ll be quick,” Mitch mocked playfully as he took Jerome’s place.

“Shut up,” Jerome replied flippantly, “The hot water felt amazing. You’ll see.” 

After Mitch’s shower, which he did have to agree, felt amazing, the pair dressed back in their traveling clothes, but with new underwear. “Where do you want to eat?” Jerome asked.

“Somewhere close. I don’t want to walk too far.” Mitch toweled his hair dry. “I’m pretty open as far as the type of food.”

“How about Subway?”

“Is it close?”

“Right across the street.”

“Eh, sure. Let’s do it.” 

They grabbed their sandwiches and returned to the room. Jerome turned the TV on and flipped through the channels aimlessly. “What do you feel like watching?”

“I don’t care. See if there’s a movie on.”

Jerome nodded and located the movie channel. “Aw, sweet! They’re playing The Hobbit! Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” Mitch bit into his sandwich and moaned. “Oh, my sweet Jesus, this tastes amazing. And I normally don’t care for Subway. This tastes better, somehow. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just starving.”

“Glad to hear it, biggums, glad to hear it.” They ate their sandwiches slowly, often forgetting to chew because they were so wrapped up in the movie. After The Hobbit finished, The Fault In Our Stars started. “Want to watch this one, too?”

“May as well. There’s no bedtime on vacation. Or is there? I wouldn’t know, seeing as I’ve been vacationing wrong all 21 of my years.” Mitch poked Jerome in the side.

“No, you’re right there. Let’s watch.”

They fell asleep halfway through the movie.


	3. Consume So Much Alcohol You Get Black-out Drunk

The following morning, Jerome and Mitch slept in until noon. Thankfully, they’d remembered to close the curtains the night before, so as not to be woken up by the sun. When Jerome finally did wake up, however, it was because of the absolute necessity to get to the bathroom right then and pee. He jumped out of bed and took care of business before returning to the wonderfully soft mattress and closing his eyes. No sooner had he done that, however, than Mitch poked him on the cheek. “Hey.”

“What.”

“Wake up.”

“Why.”

“Because you woke me up, so now you have to suffer the consequences.”

Jerome turned to look at Mitch. “I officially hate you.”

Mitch pouted. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to a guy who just got his heart broken, now is it, biggums?”

“You’re going to keep milking that this whole trip, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. More of a statement of fact.

“Yes.” There it was, the confirmation. “I thought that was the point of this trip?”

“Not if you’re going to be a lazy butt about it.”

“You know you love me.” Mitch smiled and poked Jerome again. “Now get up. It’s noon.”

“What?” Jerome looked at the clock. “Oh my god, it’s actually noon. I’m very impressed by our sleeping skills. Do you wanna do something? Maybe grab lunch?”

“Lunch sounds fantastic right about now.” Mitch sat up and stretched, cracking his back. “I’ll check that list of restaurants for a nice little café or sandwich place. Sound good?”

“Sounds great. I’m gonna brush my teeth.” Jerome walked back to the bathroom while Mitch perused the list. 

“Hey Jerome, there’s this place called Palm Café that serves soup and sandwiches. It’s right next to a Starbucks, so we could get coffee after that. What do you say?”

“Let’s do it!” He poked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. “Right now, any place that serves food is okay by me.” He finished his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair before pulling on a clean t-shirt and leaving the bathroom. “You wanna brush your teeth first?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Mitch ducked into the bathroom while Jerome stared out the window. They had a pretty great view, he had to admit. They could see the ocean, and there weren’t too many annoying tourists around because this wasn’t really a destination beach. It was mostly quiet couples, with few kids populating the area. When Mitch reappeared, Jerome pocketed his key and they left.

Palm Café proved to be the right choice, as the food was great and relatively cheap. They walked to Starbucks afterwards and grabbed some iced mochas and danishes, and then sat out on the patio and watched the ocean. At about 2, they returned to the room to put on their bathing suits and spent the next four hours laying on the beach, until Mitch’s stomach started to rumble.

“Jerome?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“It’s almost dinner time. Where do you wanna go?”

“How about we just eat at the restaurant in the motel? It’s got reasonable prices, and a bar.”

“Is drinking allowed on vacation, Mr. Vacation Expert?”

“Of course, Mr. Vacation Noob. In fact, Rule Number Three is to consume so much alcohol that you get blackout drunk.”

“Oh, really? Well, I wouldn’t want to break the vacation rules.” Mitch teased.

“Wanna shower and then hit the bar?” Jerome suggested.

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“I guess it’s a statement. Leggo.” They picked up their towels and ran back to the room, one taking a long shower while the other watched TV. At seven o’clock, they headed down to the restaurant.

“Table for two, please.” Jerome asked the seater.

“Of course, sir. Right this way. Would you prefer to be near the fire pits or the bar?” The seater, who’s name tag said ‘Morgan,’ asked them politely, picking up two menus.

“Definitely the bar.” Mitch smirked. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Vacation Expert?”

“That is most certainly right, Mr. Vacation Noob. You’re learning.”

Jerome ordered a bottle of wine for the table after they sat. “To a best friends vacation,” he toasted, raising his glass.

“And to getting over girlfriends,” Mitch added as he clinked his glass with Jerome before downing the whole thing in one go.

“Careful, Mitch. Might wanna take it easy,” Jerome cautioned.

“I thought the rule was to get blackout-drunk?” Mitch raised an eyebrow.

Jerome laughed. “You’re right, my boy. The student has surpassed the master.” He downed his wine. “After this bottle, wanna do some shots?”

“Yes, please.” Mitch poured himself another glass of wine. 

About an hour later, the two were thoroughly intoxicated. “I’m really glad we came on vacation, Jerome,” Mitch slurred. “It’s fun.”

“Agreed, my buddy,” Jerome giggled back. “Agreed.”

Across the restaurant, a band started to play. “We’re Razorblade, and we’ll be hanging out with you for the next two hours!” the lead singer announced. “I’m Phil, and this is Charlie on the saxophone, Dan on the bass, and PJ on the guitar. If you’ve got any requests, just let us know. We’ll be kicking this party off with a classic, ‘Talk Dirty to Me’ by Jason Derulo!” he finished. The restaurant started clapping and several couples got out of their chairs to dance.

Mitch grabbed Jerome’s hand. “I wanna dance.” He pulled his drunken friend into the center of the floor, and tripped over his own feet, tackling Jerome to the ground and landing on top of him. Jerome attempted to sit up, but only banged his and Mitch’s heads together. Mitch tried to get up, but his leg was pinned underneath Jerome and he just fell back down, landing with his lips right on top of Jerome’s in a sloppy, drunken kiss. Jerome wasted no time deepening it, and their impromptu make-out session on the floor was interrupted only when someone stepped on Mitch’s leg. He helped the shorter male up, and they continued dancing, a bit more red-faced than before.

The next two hours were a blur of grinding, kissing, puking, and loud pop music blasting through the amps.


	4. Flings Don't Mean a Thing

Jerome woke up with a splitting headache as the sun shone directly into his eyes. _Great_ , he thought to himself, _we didn’t close the curtains last night._ He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up slowly, fighting back the pangs of nausea. Maybe getting super drunk last night wasn’t the greatest idea of all time, rule or no.

He took stock of his surroundings. The first thing that he noticed was that he was naked. The second thing was that Mitch was also naked. And the last thing was that his ass hurt like hell.

No. That did not happen. Jerome most certainly did not sleep with Mitch last night. Impossible. And yet the facts were all there. Jerome sank back down into the sheets and pulled the covers back up, managing to sink back into a doze for a few minutes, until he felt Mitch stir next to him. 

“Jerome? Why am I naked? Did I get piss-drunk and sleep with a random chick last night? Mitch pulled the covers back off of the two of them. “No. Uh-uh.” Jerome pretended to be asleep until Mitch violently shook his shoulder. “Jerome. This is important.”

Jerome rolled over to face his best friend. “What?”

“I’m pretty sure we, uh, had sex.”

“What?” Jerome feigned surprise.

“Yeah. I’m almost positive.”

Jerome swore. “Damn. I was hoping there was another explanation. Well, I guess that’s that. We slept together. What now?” He looked up at the other’s face hopefully.

“I don’t know!” Mitch ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know the protocol for situations like this! I’ve never slept with my best friend before!”

“Alright, we just need to calm down and think about this rationally and calmly,” Jerome began, not calmly at all. “So we had sex. That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Really?” Mitch looked relieved. “Is that the fourth rule of vacation or something? Part of the best friend hand book? Because I never bought a copy.”

Jerome gasped dramatically. “Mitchell Hughes! To think I called you my best friend for 21 years, and you didn’t even have a copy of the handbook! But yes, actually. The Fourth Rule of Vacation states that flings don’t have to mean anything. So, thank God in Heaven, we’re off the hook.”

“Phew.”

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes. 

Mitch cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, going to take a shower now.” He got up from the bed and made his way into the bathroom.

“Oh, uh, good idea.” When Mitch was gone, Jerome buried his head in his hands. _I slept with my best friend._

-

When Jerome got out of the shower, he found a note on the bed. 

_Jerome,  
I went for a run on the beach. I’ll eat lunch at Palm Café and do a little grocery shopping for us and be back around 3. I just need some time to myself._

He crumpled up the note in his fist and then tossed it in the trash can before getting dressed and heading out of the room. If Mitch was on the beach, he’d go to the pool. Then he’d get lunch at Starbucks, since there was no way to tell when Mitch would be eating at Palm. Content with his plan to avoid seeing Mitch, Jerome made his way to the pool and ordered a cocktail. He sipped it languidly and closed his eyes.

Some time later, something landed on Jerome’s head. _Please don’t be bird poop, please don’t be bird poop,_ he prayed as he opened his eyes. Gray clouds had blocked out the previous sun and the air had a definitive, tangible moisture to it. _Rain. Well, at least it’s not bird poop._ He ducked inside the building just as it started to pour. Only mildly wet, he grabbed an umbrella from the hotel gift shop and after paying the absurd vacation gift shop price, started down the road to Starbucks. His nap had ended right around lunch time.

“Hi, yes. I’ll have a grande caramel macchiato, please?” He rattled his order off to the bored-looking barista. 

“Name?”

“Jerome.”

While she made his coffee, Jerome stared out the window. There was something relaxing about the way the rain slid down the window pane, snaking like a -

Mitch. On the other side of the window. Jerome lifted his hand in a half-wave to his best friend, who averted his eyes and walked quickly away, pretending the encounter had never happened.

“Sir? Your drink.” Jerome whipped around to see the barista holding his caramel macchiato in her outstretched hand.

He took it from her and lifted it to his mouth. “Thanks.” As the coffee hit his tongue, he spluttered. “Hot!”

The barista giggled and Jerome left the building.

The downpour ended just as suddenly as it began, and the world sparkled under the new rays of sunlight. Jerome closed his umbrella and shook it, inhaling the fresh yet salty air deeply. It filled his lungs and lifted his spirits ever-so-slightly. 

Instead of heading back to their room, Jerome went out onto the beach and laid down in the sand, not bothering to fetch a towel. The white sand was still soaked, but the discomfort faded after a moment. With the sun warming his stomach, he felt perfectly content for a whole five minutes, until the whole ‘Mitch sitch’ popped back into his mind.

_What am I going to do about that?_

He took a nap on the beach (really, that’s all he did nowadays. He supposed he was making up for the sleep he’d lost during the school year) and woke around dinner time. Brushing himself off, he made his way down the street to a restaurant. “Table for one, please.”

“Window or bar?”

“Definitely window,” he said with a humorless chuckle. _That’s the last time I sit near a bar for as long as I live._

“Right this way.” The hostess led him to his table.

Jerome ended up ordering a ham and provolone melt on rye, and munched it thoughtfully while mulling the whole situation over. _Okay. I had sex with Mitch. No big deal. Vacation sex doesn’t count. It’s in the official rules. Unless you want it to. I don’t want it to. Does Mitch? Probably not. So why is everything so awkward?_

Jerome stared out the window as he chewed. About halfway through his sandwich, Mitch jogged by. His shirt was wet and clung to his chest. He didn’t seem to notice Jerome.

_Why is he all wet? His shirt is basically skintight. It leaves nothing to the imagination. Although he’s got a pretty good body, so it’s not like he’s got anything to be ashamed of. I suppose I found that out last night, though I really can’t remember. He looked pretty good when I woke up this morning, though. And I was pretty sore, so he’s probably pretty good at sex. I wonder what it would be like to do it again, sober, so I can remember it -_

Jerome jerked himself out of his thoughts. “What the heck?” he asked himself quietly. “I am not attracted to Mitch. I am not.” He payed for his sandwich and left, no more at peace than when he came in. If anything, he was more troubled than before.


	5. It Can Mean Anything You Want It To Mean

Jerome stayed in bed as long as possible the next morning. He didn’t want to see Mitch. It would just be too awkward. No matter what the rules said, it’s still weird when you sleep with your best friend. 

Eventually, his bladder dictated that he had to get up. He shuffled to the bathroom and back, noticing that Mitch’s side of their bed wasn’t mussed at all. Did he not come back last night? His stuff was still in the room. 

He grabbed his wallet and room key, and made his way down to the lobby and out the main doors. _I need to grab some more trailmix,_ he thought. _We’re out. I’ll go to Walmart._

He did just that, and came out thirty minutes later with trailmix, chips of various flavors and shapes, and a twenty-four pack of Coca-Cola. After depositing all but the barbecue chips and two cans in their room, he went down to the beach and sat in the sand. _Shit. I forgot a towel._

Jerome downed the first can in one go and stared out at the ocean for a while, pondering. He’d always considered Mitch his best friend, but one drunken mishap and they weren’t even talking. Jerome was willing to admit it: he missed his biggums. He felt alone in a crowded room. Well, more like alone on the sparsely populated beach, but still. He was lonely.

Jerome dipped his hand into the chips and shoved a handful in his mouth, suddenly aware of the fact that he hadn’t eaten today. Within fifteen minutes, the bag was gone. He polished off the second can and leaned back in the sand, enjoying the warmth. _Maybe I should communicate with my subconscious if I want to know how to handle this situation. Okay brain, do your thing._

He waited for five, ten, fifteen minutes for a deep, earth-shattering (or at least awkwardness-erasing) thought.

_When Mitch and I finally end our vacation we’re gonna have to work out. We’ve eaten practically nothing but trail mix and chips._

Jerome snorted. That was his all-revealing thought? Wow. 

\- 

Eventually it became clear to him that he wasn’t going to get any help from his subconscious. Disappointed, he brushed himself off and went back up to the room for a shower. When he got out, he wrapped a towel around him before opening the door. He jumped.

Mitch was sitting on their bed.

Jerome pulled his towel tighter around him and flushed. “Uh, hi.”

Mitch flushed even more so. “Hi.”

The pair stayed still and silent, neither wanting to speak. Finally, Mitch broke the silence. “Can we, uh, go to dinner? I think we need to talk.”

“It’s only three,” Jerome pointed out.

“So? I need to talk to you, Jerome,” Mitch pleaded. “We can’t keep avoiding each other and slinking around, trying not to talk about it. We _have_ to talk about it.”

Jerome swallowed. “Okay. Dinner at three-thirty?” 

Mitch nodded. “Sounds perfect. I’ll, uh, wait in the lobby.”

“You don’t have to. This is our room. It’s just as much yours as mine.”

“Yeah, but you have to get dressed and there’s really nowhere for you to do it. I thought you’d, uh,” Mitch paused, “Appreciate the privacy.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Jerome mentally punched himself in the face. “See you in a few.”

Mitch left the room.

\- 

At three-thirty sharp, Jerome entered the lobby in his traveling clothes. He scanned the unfamiliar faces, looking for a certain Mitchell Hughes, before spotting him. He did a double take. 

Mitch was most certainly not in his traveling clothes. He was in a tuxedo.

“Where did you get that?” Jerome asked, walking over. 

“Thrift shop down the street. We’re discussing a delicate matter, and in the movies when people discuss delicate matters they go to fancy restaurants and wear tuxedos. I got you one, too.” Mitch tossed a plastic bag towards Jerome, who caught it with ease. “I changed in the bathrooms through that doorway. You can go do that now.”

“Why didn’t you give me this thirty minutes ago?” Jerome demanded, slightly irritated but more amazed.

“I didn’t have these thirty minutes ago,” Mitch replied, giving a small smile. Jerome took a second to examine Mitch’s tuxedo. It fit him perfectly, as if it was custom-tailored. It really showed off his attractive figure - no. Jerome shook his head slightly and went into the bathroom to change. 

When he came back out, Mitch blushed slightly. “So it fits.”

“Yeah, it does. Thanks for buying it.”

“Thanks for wearing it. I know it was kinda weird for me to just demand you wear a tuxedo - “

“It’s fine. Where did you want us to eat?”

Mitch led the way to Jerome’s car and opened the passenger door for Jerome. “Oh no, Mitch, I’m driving my own car.”

“But you don’t know where we’re going.”

“Tell me where we’re going, then.”

“Nope.” Mitch grinned and threw himself into the driver’s seat, starting the car. “Now get in.”

Jerome gaped. “How did you get my keys?” 

“It’s a secret.” Mitch patted the seat. “Now get. In. The. Car.” 

This time, Jerome did as he was told and hopped in. “Let’s go.” They pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, windows down and wind roaring in their ears.

Eventually, they pulled into the parking lot for the _Sea Scape Bistro_ , and Mitch gave their names at the door. “Hughes, for two.”

Jerome reveled quietly at the fact that Mitch managed to make reservations for them.

They were led to an all-glass elevator. The attendant pressed the floor-10 button and the two watched everyone else eating slowly get smaller as they climbed in altitude. When it stopped, the attendant led them to a table with a great view of the ocean. The entire wall was a window. “Will this be alright, sir?” 

Mitch slipped the attendant a twenty. “This is great, thanks. Can you bring out a bottle of champagne?”

The attendant nodded and left. Mitch turned to Jerome. “Like the view?”

“It’s fantastic,” Jerome admitted, gazing out at the ocean. “I feel almost like I’m flying up here. So, why did we come here?”

“I wanted to repay you for taking me on this vacation,” Mitch explained as the attendant returned with the champagne. He poured two glasses and Mitch raised his in a toast. “So, to us, and to you, because I am totally over Jess.”

Jerome clinked his glass against Mitch and took a sip. “But you said you wanted to talk about something.”

Mitch turned a bit pink and he fidgeted with his tie. “Uh, yeah. I think we should talk about us.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, we do,” Mitch said snappishly. “We had sex, Jerome. Like it or not, that’s the truth.”

“But the rules of vacation state that random sex doesn’t have to mean anything -“ Jerome was cut off by Mitch.

“Damnit, Jerome! What if I want it to mean something?” 

“Wha-“ Jerome was cut off yet again by Mitch leaning across the table and kissing him square on the lips. It surprised him, but he wasn’t against it, and eagerly leaned into it. Eventually, they ran out of breath and sat back down, flushed and panting. “Okay. It can mean something.”

“Are you sure that the rules will allow that, Mr. Vacation Expert?” Mitch asked, almost flirtily.    
“Absolutely, Mr. Vacation Noob. The fifth rule is that while sex doesn’t have to mean anything, it can mean anything you want it to mean,” Jerome said, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to break the rules,” Mitch replied, definitely flirting now. 

“Neither would I,” Jerome bantered. “What do you say we finish up our dinner here and then go back to the room and have it mean something, if you know what I’m getting at.”

Mitch winked. “I most certainly know what you’re getting at, but I have a proposition first. I don’t think we should go do that until we’re official, so Jerome Aceti,” Mitch walked around to Jerome’s side of the table and got down on one knee, “Will you be my boyfriend?” He produced a square of chocolate from the inside of his jacket.

“I will most certainly be your boyfriend if it means chocolate,” Jerome responded before kissing Mitch on the lips. The entire floor of the restaurant applauded, and the boyfriends broke apart, embarrassed. 

They finished their dinner quickly, and then rushed out of the restaurant. Mitch made sure to leave enough cash for the meal and an exorbitant tip on the table. As they got to the car, Jerome pinched Mitch’s butt. The latter yelped. “Not fair!”

“What’s not fair, Mitch?” Jerome smirked sultrily. “Now that you’re my boyfriend, your ass is fair game.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I topped that night,” Mitch responded. 

“Huh, that’s not how I remember it. Or, at least, that’s not the picture I have in my head right now,” Jerome leaned his head on Mitch’s shoulder, breathing hotly on his neck. “I can see you writhing beneath me -“

“Okay, that’s enough. I’d actually like to be able to drive us home, and if you keep talking like that, I’m not going to make it.”

Mitch did make it to the hotel, thankfully, but not into the room before he was kissing every inch of exposed skin he could find on Jerome. They scarcely made it in the room before they finally managed to get their coats off. “I don’t know if we’re going to make it to the bed,” Mitch growled.

“God, I hope we do,” Jerome replied. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to be pinned on the hard floor.”

Mitch responded by collapsing onto their mattress, pulling Jerome with him. “I know I’ve seen you naked before,” he started, panting, “But I can’t wait to see you again. I want to remember every inch of you.”

Jerome was pretty sure that was the hottest thing anyone had ever said to him.


	6. If You Don't Want To Stay Forever

They slept in late the next day, as adolescent boys often do. When Jerome finally woke up, he found himself wrapped in Mitch’s arms. He snuggled into the latter’s side and closed his eyes again.

The sudden movement caused Mitch’s eyelids to flutter open. He took in the scene and noticed Jerome at his side. Grinning, he poked the shorter’s cheek. “Hey, biggums.”

Jerome opened his eyes. “Hey, sleepy-head.”

“Wanna just stay here for a while?” Mitch yawned, finally peaceful after days of inner turmoil.

“Here as in the bed, or here as in the beach?” Jerome propped himself up on his elbow.

“Well, I was thinking in bed,” Mitch smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. “But now that you mention it, living here forever sounds amazing.”

“I wish we didn’t have any responsibilities back home,” Jerome sighed regretfully.

“Like college.” Mitch made a face.

“And jobs.”

“And apartments.”

“Hey, wanna move in together when your lease is up?” Jerome asked suddenly. “Mine’s ending in a couple of weeks, so we could move somewhere bigger and live there together.”

Mitch kissed him lightly on the lips. “That sounds great. Now back to sleeping.”

-

Much later that day, as the sun was starting to sink, the couple sat on the beach, wrapped together in a towel and watching the sunset. 

“We could move here,” Mitch said suddenly. “And live in a tiny beach cabin.”

“And you could work at Palm Café, and I could work at Starbucks.”

“And we’d be dirt poor for a while, but we’d have our view.”

“And each other.”

“And each other. And one day we’d move to a big beach mansion, with a cook and a maid and a butler and a chauffeur.”

“But we’d keep our little beach cabin, and it would be our escape.” 

Jerome exhaled wistfully. “That sounds lovely. God, I wish it was reality, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been doing the math, and I’m just about to max out my credit card,” Jerome sighed. “I can just afford for us to stay tonight, but no more. Which means we have to go home.”

“Home,” Mitch sighed. “Home doesn’t seem like home anymore. Home is here, with you and the sand and our little beach cabin.”

“Home is wherever you are, Mitchell Hughes,” Jerome kissed Mitch’s cheek breathily. “You are my home.”

“It took us twenty one years to notice it. Twenty one years of us being best friends, and also twenty one years of us thinking we’re straight.” Mitch chuckled, “But we’re perfect for each other.”

“I’d go as far as saying we’re meant to be.”

“But not like Romeo and Juliet. We’re better than even them. We’re like Romeo and Mercutio.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Mercutio was gay.”

“But Romeo wasn’t!”

“Neither was I until two days ago,” Mitch nudged Jerome’s shoulder with his own. “Meanwhile, you were always very homosexual.”

“I was not! I had a girlfriend!”

“Who dumped you when she found out you were lusting after the quarterback on the school’s football team.”

“Oh, right.” Jerome colored. “Alright then, I’ll be Mercutio.” 

Mitch pecked him on the cheek. “Okay then, little Mercutio.”

“Okay then, little Romeo.”

“Biggums.”

“Sleepy-head.”

“Mr. Vacation Expert.”

“Mr. Vacation Noob.” Jerome entwined his fingers with Mitch’s. “Oh, about that. Do you feel like I’ve taught you well so far?”

“I feel like I’ve learned a lot.” Mitch paused. “So far? How many rules are there?”

Jerome booped him on the nose. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out. But there are more.”

“Hopefully you’ll get the opportunity to teach me all of them.”

“We’ll do one for every day we’re on vacation,” Jerome suggested. “Today’s is, ‘If you don’t want to stay forever, you’re doing it wrong.’”

“Well, at least I’m doing one thing right,” Mitch breathed out slowly, “Because I never want to leave.” 

“I beg to differ. You’re doing at least two things right. You’re the reason we’re together, not me.”

“Wow, two things right at the same time.”

“Must be a new record for you.”

“You’re my good-luck charm.”

“And you’re my home.”

They watched the sun sink below the water, squinting as it shined in their eyes. 

Jerome looked up at the sky and gasped. “Mitch, look!” He pointed up at the night sky, which now shone with thousands of stars, the brightest the pair had ever seen. “I can see Polaris! And Ursa Minor, and Lupus.” He traced the constellations. 

Mitch rested his chin on Jerome’s shoulder. “This is the best vacation ever, Polaris.”

“Why are you calling me Polaris? That’s pretty gay.” Jerome chuckled, not taking his eyes off of the sky.

“Because you’re my guiding star. Jerome, without you I wouldn’t have gotten over Jess. I’d still be moping a week later, pitying myself and binge-watching Netflix in my pajamas, which I do anyway, but it’s somehow more pathetic when you don’t have someone next to you. I’d probably never have realized that I was in love with you. I’d keep going about my life wondering why my relationships kept failing. You helped me see that I don’t need her. I have something greater.

“You can’t see the stars during the day, because the sun is too bright. And because it’s all you can see, you think it’s the most beautiful treasure in the sky. But when it’s gone, you can see so much more. And then you start to realize that the stars are the real beauty."

"That was even gayer."

"Shut up, I'm trying to be romantic here!"

"Oh, hey, I realized something. _Technically speaking_ , you're doing _three_ things right." Jerome poked Mitch in the side with a snicker. "Vacationing, dating, and also making sweet, sweet lo-"

"I'm going to stop you right there."


	7. All Good Things

The following morning - _the last morning_ , Jerome thought sadly - the pair woke up at seven sharp, thanks to the alarm clock positioned right next to Mitch’s ear. They showered, put on their traveling clothes, and packed up their few other belongings in plastic grocery bags before carrying them out to the car. Jerome stopped by the front desk to sign a receipt and grab their phones ( _yay technology_ , he thought to himself), and then they were ready to go. 

Mitch was already in the passenger seat when Jerome said, “Wait. I don’t want to go just yet.”

“But, it’s a six hour drive,” Mitch reasoned, “And we’re already checked out. Why do you want to stay?”

“I just want to see the beach one more time,” Jerome explained, “Before we have to leave our little bubble and go back to the real world. I don’t want to leave our little haven just yet.”

Mitch exited the car. “Alright then, let’s go say good-bye to the beach.” He took Jerome’s hand - both boys blushed - and they walked down the beach, leaving their shoes on the pool deck. 

Jerome flung his arms wide, the wind rippling his clothes and pushing his hair away from his face. He closed his eyes, breathing in the sea air and thinking over the past week. It was pretty good, considering everything. At the very least, he got a boyfriend out of the ordeal. At the best, a lifelong partner, a little haven, and some amazing memories to keep forever.

Mitch wrapped his arms around Jerome’s torso, resting his chin on the latter’s shoulder. “I don’t want to leave, either,” he sighed. “It’s too perfect here.”

“See, that’s the thing,” Jerome broke out of Mitch’s embrace and turned to look at him, “Rule number seven says that all good things have to come to an end.”

“I don’t think I like that rule very much,” Mitch smiled. 

Jerome kissed him on the lips lightly. “Me neither. But we can always come back to our little bubble. When we’re out of college, maybe we could move here.”

Mitch entwined their fingers. “I’d like that very much.”

Jerome launched himself into Mitch suddenly, locking their lips together in a kiss unlike the previous one. This was hungry, primordial, and even a tad lusty. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled Mitch into the ocean.

Mitch yelped and broke away when the water tickled his ankles. “Cold!”

Jerome chuckled. “Yes, you big baby, the ocean is cold. Now come back here. I’m not leaving here until we’ve made out in the ocean.”

“Well okay then.” Mitch smirked as Jerome instigated a new kiss. He didn’t break it off this time, even when the seawater sprayed the backs of his knees. When Jerome finally ran out of breath, Mitch picked him up and spun him around, making the other scream with glee. 

Eventually, Mitch’s arms got tired, and so he set his boyfriend back down in the water. “I think it’s time to say goodbye now,” he whispered above the waves. 

Jerome sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He turned to the horizon. “Goodbye, ocean!” he shouted, “Thank you for everything!”

They returned to the car. Jerome started it up, and they were off. Back to their normal, mundane lives, with a new partner in tow. Maybe their lives wouldn’t be so mundane anymore. 

And even if they were, they could always go on vacation again. After all, there were so many more rules for Mitch to learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end of Rules of Vacation! Gosh, it feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of my chest. And yet, I also want to cry. This is the first chaptered fic I’ve written in a long time, and probably the longest. It’s like my baby. But babies grow up and go to college, just like this fic. Well, it’s not going to college, but it’s moving on into the archives. 
> 
> We had a good run, RoV. Goodbye.
> 
> Songs that inspired this fic/suggested listening:  
> 1\. Greek Fire - _Top of the World_  
>  2\. You Me At Six - _Wild Ones_  
>  3\. Marina and the Diamonds - _How to Be a Heartbreaker_


End file.
